Friday, December 2, 2011

It was again on a monsoon
that i walked back from my seashore
to paint a golden dawn against 
the cloudy eastern horizon 
and there on the branches 
of a mango tree one long forgotten
era cried against the rain soaked soil.
When images exchanged 
their seasonal shadows
beneath a banyan on the meridian 
there left nothing
to take it in hand except 
the broken pieces of a window frame...

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